


Survival of the Fittest

by DawnGyocry



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Completely Ill Advised Fic, Hand Jobs, M/M, Shameless Smut, This is my Moirail's fault, Xeno, survival sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-08
Updated: 2015-01-08
Packaged: 2018-03-06 17:41:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3143000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DawnGyocry/pseuds/DawnGyocry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You never asked to get mixed up with aliens.</p><p>You never asked to have your hand all up in some hot, dripping, alien man-cooch like you're starring on some bad national geographic documentary specializing in detailed xeno reproduction.</p><p>But yeah, okay, back up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Survival of the Fittest

**Author's Note:**

> This is the most ill-advised thing I've ever written ahaaa. This is completely my moirail's fault, she made me do it, I swear.
> 
> At least it's short for once.
> 
> Merry late xmas, dear.

You never asked to get mixed up with aliens.

You never _asked_ to have your hand all up in some hot, dripping, alien man-cooch like you're starring on some bad national geographic documentary specializing in detailed xeno reproduction.

But yeah, okay. Back up.

Basically this is all Rose's fault. Of this, you are 100% convinced. And possibly largely Jade's fault too, since she's the one who got all science adventure-y and decided it would be a great idea to gather up you and your besties for a fun fledged trip to outer space to help do research on this weird new planet. Rose is just the one who got you specifically _here_. Out in the woods. Covered in alien juices.

And, okay, yeah. Maybe you're at fault for agreeing to come on this sci-fi adventure because you have a stupid biology boner and maybe aliens sounded super cool.

But you've got a _biology_ boner. Not an _alien_ boner.

…right?

It had all started pretty goddamn boring actually. You were fresh out of college with a doctorate in biology when Jade got the offer to help research on Alternia. The conflict in the general space area around the planet had recently died down, and some army people were struggling with how to handle the population of intelligent life on the planet. So, Jade used her high up physicist connections to get you and Rose and Dave a one-in-a-lifetime-chance to go to Alternia.

One three year space trip later, you were unpacking your bags on a brand new planet.

Of course, you got a lot of briefing during three years of space travel of what was going on. Humans had successfully gotten a hold of the planet after a number of years fighting with the planet's primary intelligent species. Guess the alien army eventually absconded or just couldn't be assed to keep fighting over their turf anymore. Problem was, on planet were all the kids. Alien kids. Alien kids that were rounded up and put in war camps and are growing to be not really…kiddish anymore. Alien adult-kids who were suddenly dropping like flies in the camps. And then it became your job to go find out what's up.

Unfortunately, briefing couldn't really prepare you for what Alternia is actually like. The sun is blinding and scalding, a heat so fierce it will fry your skin in minutes, so you can only move around at night, when you can barely see. The air on Alternia is thicker too, not enough to need special oxygen tanks like they have on other colonized planets, but enough to make it feel like you're breathing underwater.

And the aliens themselves. Gosh. They're something else. Ranging in size from 8 feet tall and could crush you with a pinky, to 5 feet of pure stealth and raw instinct. They look human enough, though. Got horns and grey skin and teeth straight out of a horror film, but still pretty human. Humans that act a hell of a lot like wild animals but with culture and civilization and they're _weird_ , okay? Even their language sounds like just snarling and even after three years of trying to learn it you still feel like you can barely choke out a few words right.

Thankfully, you don't have to deal with them too much. You tend to stick to researching the less intelligent flora and fauna of the planet. Even though you're getting a little sick of being almost eaten (and half the time, it's by the flora).

The real problem starts when Rose actually decides to do the smart thing and _ask_ an alien why the heck they're all dying on you. And, sweet baby Jesus, you sort of wish you had Dave's camera at the moment Rose tells you all what's up because you really want to document Dave's expression for the rest of forever. Not that your reaction is probably any less embarrassing. But still. Blackmail on your best bro is still good in case of emergencies.

Basically the aliens are like ferrets. If they don’t have sex while in heat, they die. You tune out a lot of what Rose says as she goes into details about it (something about a genetic bladder bursting, ugh) because ew, and it’s not like the details really matter. But now basically long story short is that the aliens need a _fucking_ room. Like for actual fucking.

That and monster mommies. Turns out they’ve got weird white beasties for their parents, and the first squadron who came to the planet killed them all while rounding up the aliens figuring they were just pets or something. And while Dave and Jade get the fun job of dealing with the aliens on base, _you_ are assigned to go hunting for monsters for babies.

Which is how you ended up here, driving through a giant alien forest in a truck hunting for anything that’s white and probably has lots of teeth.

So far you’ve managed to catch a few little flying bull things and a rabbit the size of a horse with a beak, but you’ve still got a number of cages to fill before you can head back to base without Rose lecturing you about the necessity to fill the needs of your alien charges and blah, blah, blah.

When it starts getting close to sunrise, you stop looking for white monsters and begin looking for a place to hunker down until the sun sets again. You wish you could keep looking when there’s better light, but you kind of value having your skin remain relatively un-fried.

It’s no sooner than you park your truck near a (hopefully non man-eating) bush, that a hulking white figure catches the corner of your eye. You freeze with your hand on the steering wheel, watch as the large thing awkwardly steps past your bush.

You hesitate. It seems like it’s slow. You’d probably be able to tranq it and load it into your truck before the sun comes up. You _should_. Aw, jeez, you really don’t want to right now. You want to feed the few monsters you do have and go to sleep.

But then you think about how much Jade would kill you if she ever found out you just let one go that easily. Nnng, _fine_. You heave out one last sigh before picking up your tranquilizer gun from the seat next to you. You put on a special pair of goggles that Dave’s bro made that help you see better in the dark and quietly get out of the truck.

You can still see the leaves moving and hear the beast’s footsteps as you carefully close the door. From the way it sounds, it’s like the animal is trying to move on a terrain that it isn’t native to. Which is good for you; easier to catch them when they don’t have a home field advantage.

You carefully step your way through the underbrush, pausing to hold your breath when the lumbering figure stops and hunkers down near the base of a tree, churring and clattering almost like it’s talking.

Cautious about making too much noise, you take a step closer to get a better look at it, your hands tight around your tranquilizer. It’s probably around eight or nine feet tall…big, but you’ve seen bigger. It’s got two giant, crablike claws, but you’ve seen sharper. What’s concerning is that it’s covered completely by a thick, heavy looking carapace. You’re not sure if your tranq dart will even be able to affect it if you can’t get through its shell. Gosh, maybe it _would_ be better to forget it this time.

You’re debating the merits of skipping this whole escapade in favor of going back to your truck and going to bed when you hear another voice coming from behind the giant crab monster. The voice is grating and clicking softly, and with a drop of your stomach, you recognize it as the alien language. You even manage to pick out a basic word here and there.

Oh Jesus. You take another slow step to the side, trying to see around the giant white form, and sure enough, you can make out the form of one of those aliens against the tree, cradling the crab’s face with grey hands, speaking quietly to it.

There’s a short moment where you don’t really have any thoughts other than ‘fuck,’ before your mind starts turning again. What do you do now? You didn’t think there were any aliens in the area left outside the camps. But you guess it was stupid to assume that a few wouldn't have managed to escape from the soldiers who first rounded them all up.

Oh man, you didn’t sign up for this. You can’t really just let the alien _go,_ right? But you sure as hell don’t want to go catch the damn thing either. You’re okay with rounding up animals, but these aliens are _people_ , and you don’t want to feel like a mercenary.  

You squint your eyes to try and get a better look at the alien. It (he?) looks pretty small, though you can’t tell if that’s just in comparison to the giant monster next to him. His horns aren’t remotely scary, at least. Actually, they’re kind of cute, barely there orange bumps sticking out just past messy black hair. At least they might be, if anything about these murder-aliens were all that cute.

It’s then that bright, bright red eyes dart sideways to meet your own. You both freeze, your knuckles turning white from your grip on your tranquilizer, the alien’s hand stopping mid-stroke along the crab’s snout.

The next few seconds go on for an eternity, neither of you looking away until the alien breaks eye contact. He turns his attention back to the crab monster, speaking more urgently to it, shoving its giant head away.

You suddenly wish you had studied their language a lot harder, your ears straining to make out the snarling words. The only thing you get out of it is ‘ _leave_ ’ and ‘ _it’s fine,’_ but the words are spoken so quickly and shakily, you’re not sure you heard it right.

The crab turns its head to stare at you, before shifting its hulking form more protectively around the alien, ignoring his protests. When it settles itself firmly, it lets out a low, grating snarl at you.

You instinctively raise your free hand, drop your shoulders, but it doesn’t do anything other than growl even louder. You lower your hand after a moment and, while making sure the giant crab monster isn’t going to jump out and eat you, you curiously move your gaze to the alien beneath it.

You were curious why the alien itself didn’t run, but you quickly see why. The alien’s face is flushed red under his grey skin, his breath coming out in short pants. He raises a trembling hand once again to the giant crab’s face, pushing against its jaw, whispering a few more words to it.

You can’t help but groan and bring a hand to your face, push your goggles up into your hair so you can rub your eyes. Great. So the alien is sick, and his monster mommy is going to guard him to the death. It would be endearing if you weren’t the villain in this situation. _You’re_ the alien from another planet come to take poor sick baby away. Bluh.

Once again you have to shove down the temptation of just leaving. At this point, even if it were smarter to leave, you doubt your conscience will let you leave the poor guy to die. Because he sure as hell looks close to death, the way his eyes keep going in and out of focus. Shit.

You slowly begin walking towards them, careful not to flinch as the crab snarls at you again.

“ _No hurt,”_ you try to grate out in Alternian. Jeez, you suck so bad at this. “ _Want you help. I help?_ ”

The way the alien’s eyelids flutter is nearly reproachful, before a look of defeat enters those red, red eyes. You distractedly wonder if the other aliens had eyes so bright. You don’t remember any, but then, you’ve never paid too much attention to them. The alien murmurs again to the giant white crab before raising his eyes back to you.

“ _Yes_ ,” he grates back to you.

You shuffle closer, wondering if you’ll have to carry this guy back to your truck. You didn’t bring any first aid when you went to follow the crab, which is stupid, but in your defense, you didn’t think you’d find a dying alien dude on the way.

You go rigid when you crouch down in front of him. There’s a pool of red fluid soaked into the ground around him, clotted in the grass at sticking to his shoes and pants. The worst of it pooled in his lap.

Your hands flutter towards the alien out of their own volition, and you have to catch yourself before you reach him. _Protect, help, injury_ , your mind throbs, hands itching, veins thrumming with a need to _fix_ this, because something is obviously wrong. It’s wrong and your instincts are screaming at you to help, because that’s what people do, they help when someone is hurt. And this. This is a _bad_ hurt, you can tell.

It’s not until you jerk your eyes up to meet with the alien’s that you register the humiliation in his eyes. And there’s a beat, then two, before it clicks. Clicks like a rusty clock ticking back to life for the first time in years.

Really? _Really?_

You don’t even mean to laugh, but it comes out anyway, breathy and borderline hysterical. Okay. Alright. So you have a _sex deprived_ dying alien on your hands. Ahaha. Sure. Why not? Gotta make this adventure as theatrical as possible, right?

Jesus, how much time does this guy have, anyway? Can you get him to your truck and try and drive back to base? The windows are tinted, so the sun shouldn’t be _too_ bad right? If you can get him back to base, you can get him to one of those sex rooms where there’s gotta be a least one other hot and bothered alien.

“Okay,” you mutter to yourself. “I’ve got this.”

You set your tranquilizer down and carefully reach your arms around the alien, ignoring the way his monster mommy starts snarling at you again and the sputtered words (swear words, your pretty sure. You remember Dave teaching you at least one of those) that the alien himself squawks at you. One heave and one agonized keen is all you need to know that this alien isn’t going _anywhere_. You can’t pick him up without hurting him, and, you realize, mortified, you just made him leak even more. Quite a bit. On you. Urgh.

“Okay, okay, sorry!” you say, jerking your hands away. “ _Sorry_ ,” you repeat in his language, though you’re positive you butchered the pronunciation.

The alien grates more incomprehensible words back to you, his head lowered so you can’t see his face. And oh, you just noticed he’d gotten his claws in one of your arms when you’d tried to lift him. You look down at the hand to see more of the red liquid over it, and you realize he must have tried doing the job himself. Whelp.

 _And why_ can’t _he?_ you wonder painfully. And then you remember, _angle. And claws. Rose said something about claws getting in the way_. And actually, you notice as you state dumbly at his hands, it looks like he’d tried and failed to bite them off. Christ.  

 You swallow thickly, try to smother a whine in your throat. Shit. Fuck. Okay. You can do this. You _have_ to do this.

You reach out a hand again and press it lightly against the alien’s abdomen, stomach churning when you hear a strangled noise grate its way past his teeth.

“ _I may?”_ you ask nervously, stomach feeling like lead, dropping further when you notice his pants are already open.

The alien drops his head to your shoulder, a strangled growl-whine coming from his throat. The hand he has on your arm tightens before he hoarsely says back, “ _Yes_.”

You lick your lips, mouth dry and look blankly upwards as you let your hand sink down past the waistline of the alien’s pants. Jeez, you have no idea what you’re even _doing_. You don’t know how this works for them past needing to empty their genetic bladder. _Why don’t you ever listen to Rose better you are such a moron._

It’s incredibly wet, your hand slipping in slick fluid. You have half a second to feel a little grossed out before something _wraps around your hand what the fuck_. You try to jerk your hand back, but the weird, thing, long and thick, like an elongated tongue, grips around your hand tighter and the alien groans heavily into your shoulder.

The groan sends a jolt through your spine, and you firmly ignore the way your belly tightens.

You rub your fingers along the tentacle thing that has a hold of your hand, try to stroke it in a way that you think would feel nice, and the alien racks a dry sob into your shoulder. You pause, try again, but are quickly stopped as the alien brings his own hand to yours and shoves them down, slipping out of the tight grip of the weird tongue thing.

It’s then that your wet fingers brush against something _incredibly_ vagina-like, and your stomach does this weird flop. Well. At least you know what to _do_ with this.  

You stare intently at the bark on the tree in front of you as you slip your fingers into the folds. Only one set, you realize. And, oh hey, that bit of bark looks kind of like a turtle, ahaha. Oh, man, the alien is making weird noises again.

All at once, the alien seizes forward so it is all but sitting in your lap, a low, desperate noise rumbling deep in his throat, and _fuck_ , the tightness in your belly pools lower and _no_. _No_ , you will not get off on this. Just. Block out the sounds or something. Think about Jade’s annoying dog. Anything else. Don’t think about the fact that your finger is literally halfway inside an alien man-cooch.

Said cooch is currently clamping down around your finger, quivering and hot as the alien in your lap rocks forward, making another one of your fingers slip in. You squeeze your eyes shut as you use to fingers to rub against the quivering, fleshy walls, unsuccessful in blocking out the way the alien’s breath hitches.

He rocks forward again, grating out more alien swear words, and you quickly get in a third finger. You want this over as fast as you can, trying not to notice how your junk is starting to throb just as much as the alien’s.

You don’t even _like_ this. It’s awkward and embarrassing. But the _sounds_ are another thing. The faster you can get this alien off, the faster you can load him and his monster back into your truck and go home.

The alien is croaking into your neck, the same word over and over, and it takes your rattled mind a moment to realize he’s saying ‘ _deeper_ ’ and Jesus Christ this is ridiculous.

You grit your teeth, clamp your free hand between your knees, and shove your other deeper into the alien until –oh. There. Some sort of bump in there.

You carefully rub a finger against it, and _oh_ , the alien just goes to pieces, clattering brokenly at you, his claws digging into your arm, his breath hot and shivery against your neck.

The flesh around the little bump spasms as you continue to rub against it, the base of your spine tingling as the alien continues to chatter and whine. And with one last push against that little bump, the flesh around it convulses and suddenly a gush of hot liquid is pouring out all over you lap, the alien arching into your chest and ssssshiiitt, his thigh rubbing hard into your crotch and you have to try very hard not to push him off right away.

There’s a handful of seconds where you barely breathe, just listen to the alien catch his breath, his face still pressed into the crook between your shoulder and neck and you have this strong suspicion he’s probably hiding from you. Another short moment passes. And then another, the air getting more awkward with each passing moment, until he finally leans back, withdrawing his claws from your arms (and ow, you’ll need to bandage those).

Neither of you say anything until Crabmonster makes a deep churring sound, nudges its nose against the alien’s arm and _holy shit_ you totally just jacked off an alien in front of his mom or dad or _whatever_. Christ.

You jerkily scootch out from under the alien, careful not to jar him, though he seems to be doing _much_ better now, his movements not so stiff and he can actually bend at the abdomen now. You glance down at your own crotch, which is stubbornly half chubbed, but you don’t think it’s _too_ obvious. At least you hope not. Bluh. More concerning is how much alien jizz is dripping from your clothes. Great. You’ll have to change pants before you get back into your truck.

Aaaand speaking of which, you guiltily look over at the alien, place a hand on his shoulder and garble out a butchered “ _Come/follow_ ” in Alternian. The alien looks at you, exhaustion apparent in his eyes, and he weakly nods, murmurs something to his crab mom/dad/thing.

“Er, right, okay,” you say, not really to anyone in particular, and pick your tranquilizer up off the ground before heading back the way you came, a hand lightly on the alien’s arm. Half to make sure he doesn’t try to run, half to make sure he won’t fall over. He looks significantly better, but who knows how long he was like that, and you have no idea if he needs any additional medical attention. The worried way the giant crab monster lumbering behind you keeps clattering makes you even more nervous.

When you get back to the truck, you carefully help the alien into the passenger seat, after having him convince the crab monster to go into one of the cages in the trunk. Once he’s seated, you grab a change of clothes, mumble something about being right back, lock the truck doors and hide in the nearest bushes to jack your chubby off.

You lean your head back against a tree trunk after you change, exhaustion finally settling into your bones. The air around you simmers and as the sun starts lighting up the edges of the sky.

You’ll have to drive back to camp right away. The alien probably needs more care, and you have a bad feeling that his monster won’t be patient about being kept apart for that long. You sigh deeply and turn back to your truck. You wonder if it’s possible to suffocate from an awkward atmosphere.

This is gunna be one hell of a ride back. 


End file.
